


In Between Rounds

by nancyddrew



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Linstead, Missing Scene, Smut, because there had to been some time between 2x11 and 2x12, because you know I love filling missing moments, coda to 2x11, erin was wearing different clothes in 2x12, hence this fic, smutty smut smut, so that basically inspired this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nancyddrew/pseuds/nancyddrew
Summary: Missing moments between the end of 2x11 and the beginning and 2x12.





	In Between Rounds

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my beta for her brainstorming help, her editing and her overall enthusiasm.

“Don’t touch me,” Erin mutters at the vague direction she thinks Jay is in. _Now there’s a phrase she never thought she’d say in this situation. _She hears a chuckle vibrate in his chest, but she doesn’t care. “I need a minute.” She doesn’t care if he mocks her because she just had the best sex of her life—and she isn’t even exaggerating.

“Yeah, me too.”

Their clothes are scattered all around Jay’s apartment, and she’s currently draped over his body, unable to move, despite her earlier quip about no touching. Her entire body is covered with a sheen of sweat from the third round—or was it fourth? She can’t be quite sure. Her memory might be compromised.

“Wow, huh?”

They haven’t exactly talked between rounds, so now, when the exhaustion sets in and they’re both too tired to move a limb, much less begin round four—or five, again, not sure—there is a sudden need to say something. To address what just happened between them. And despite her best efforts, the best she can come up with is wow. Because _wow_.

“Yeah,” he replies. He was never good at pillow talk, but as he looks at Erin’s body, warm against his, he has to agree with her assessment of what just went down. “I think I might be dead.”

They annihilated each other.

“I hope not.” _Cause we need to do that again about a million times_. He owes her so many orgasms for teasing her when he knew they couldn’t be together. If she gives it more thought, she might owe him some as well. She’s become an expert at teasing and knows exactly what his weak spots are.

The implication of her words is not lost on him. She raises a brow, managing to lift her head to look at him. Her expression is something between serious and amused, because with her showing up on his doorstep and them ruining each other in bed, neither of them has paused to think about what this means. They pined for so long, she couldn’t bear it if this was just sex to him.

But her concerns are in vain because when his lips touch hers it’s with such tenderness, she knows it’s more. Something breaks inside of her then—a single tear escapes down her cheek. Because she has something to give him. Something she hasn’t felt ever before, and it scares her to the point where can’t even talk about it.

“I need a shower,” she murmurs against his mouth, pulling away because doing is better than feeling and he has her feeling all sorts of things.

“Mind if I join you?”

“I thought you needed a minute.”

“That was a minute ago,” he tells her as a cocky grin spreads across his face. Despite her reluctance to feed his ego, she sighs, already wanting him again.

“Do you think this will wear off?” She asks as he follows her to the shower. He knows from past conversations that she likes hers scalding hot and he likes it cold, so he settles on something in between as a compromise and steps under the spray of water.

He wishes he had an answer to give her, but he shrugs in reply. “No idea.” His lips hover over hers, taking the time to explore that he hadn’t taken before. There are so many ways he can think of kissing her, and he wants to have enough time to try out all the ways and think of more. This is meant to be an innocent kiss—and it is, for all of three seconds, before she leans in and deepens it.

Her back hits the cold tiles as his hands grip her hips to steady her with a power both exciting and bruising. He hopes it won’t wear off, because he can’t imagine ever looking at her and not feeling the blood rush through his veins immediately. It makes him feel alive.

He all but devours her, making all coherent thoughts either of them might have evaporate. His eyes are hungry and dark. How many times had he fantasized about this? About her wet, pliant body pressing against his while water falls on them? The fantasy mixing with reality brings his arousal to an almost painful level.

She returns his kisses, letting out soft moans that nearly end him. His lips chase after hers as she pulls away to retrieve the shower gel. His hands travel her body, exploring the hidden spots he’s never had the chance to touch before.

“You know, not to sound outrageous, but we should probably get some sleep,” she murmurs, just when his hands reach for her breasts. She closes her eyes, enjoying the familiar touch in unfamiliar places. How many times have his fingers lingered on her skin when she was hurt, or when he was comforting her? Each time, she’d wish for them to be able to do more, and now they can. “You know what, forget I said anything. We’ll sleep when we’re dead,” she says with a grin.

He returns the smile and starts kissing down her neck, trying to memorize the ways to get a reaction out of her—but it isn’t necessary. Because Erin is more than reactive underneath his fingertips. She’s soft and she moves against him and makes divine sounds come out of her throat. “You’re perfect.” It comes out without thought or deliberation. He sees it so he says it.

“Not so bad yourself,” she murmurs. Her body leans back against him, his strong torso offering support she thinks she might need. Because her knees are already getting weak again, and he hasn’t even started the foreplay.

Leaving a trail of kisses down from her neck and her spine makes her shiver with anticipation. Pleasure starts building up, and she’s not sure she wants to come yet—stuck in that delicious place between the building and the climax.

Wanting better access, he turns her so that her back is against the shower wall. Their lips meet in a kiss—briefly—before he moves them again. He must admit, he quite enjoys the way her skin gets goose bumps when his tongue flicks her nipples, or the way she groans when he pulls away.

Knowing what her desperate whine is for, he resumes his actions, his finger coming to rub her clit almost instinctively.

“Yes,” she pleads, her pelvis bucking to meet his finger for more friction. “Please.”

“I told you you’d beg.”

A memory flashes in her mind. The moment he is talking about happened years ago, when they were still dancing around liking each other. It was days after they established that _they couldn’t_ and she was saying something about how he couldn’t possibly be as good in bed as he thought he was. He told her that when he’d get her in bed, he’d have her begging in no time.

And here she is, begging. And if he asked her what she thought now? Well, she didn’t really want to inflate his ego any further, but she would have to admit he was right. He was even downplaying it. The man is sex on two legs and damn it, if she’d ever let him find out.

“If you don’t put your fingers to work, your reputation will be in serious trouble,” she warns. It’s Jay, she should have known not to make threats.

“Why don’t I put my mouth to work instead?” He lowers himself to the floor, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder and dives right in. Erin moans at the contact while her fingers lace through his wet hair.

She begs and cries out until she falls apart under his touch and he needs to hold her up because her legs don’t work anymore. With a smug smile, he carries her to the bed, oblivious to the fact that they’re both soaking wet and enters her in one swift movement. He needs to be inside her like he needs air to breathe. He starts moving, and she gains life again, rocking her hips to meet his every thrust.

_Not much longer,_ she thinks, when suddenly his eyes find hers. He knows she’s close, and so is he, and watching his eyes drown in pleasure is the most intimate she’s been with anyone. It’s the moment when she thinks he might be the one. She’s never thought it before, about any of the men she’s been with.

But with Jay it’s different. She thinks she’s already halfway there. She’s already falling.

With that thought she shatters into a million pieces and his strong arms are the only thing keeping her together.

* * *

Erin lets herself into the apartment, fully expecting Nadia to be waiting with an interrogation about where she’d spent the night. But instead, silence envelops her, and the only trace of her roommate she can spot is the note pinned to the fridge.

_At the library. Hope you had fun (oh who am I kidding I know you did) =) _

_-N_

Erin grins, because for some inexplicable reason, she hasn’t been able to stop grinning since driving to Jay’s place last night. Her daydream is broken by the very object of her fantasies sneaking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Hi.”

Her knees go weak at the sound of his voice. _What is this man doing to her?_ She should be used to his voice and his touch by now, after all they have been partners for over two years. But everything has changed now, and the slight husk of his voice carries a different meaning.

"I thought you were waiting in the car," she mentions as she covers his hands with her own, leaning into the embrace. 

"You were taking too long."

Erin fails to mention that she’s been gone for not a full five minutes. She’s missed him too.

“Nadia home?”

“Library.”

“Good.” He turns her, his eyes already dark with desire. “You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this.” Hooking his hands below her glutes, he lifts her up on the counter, immediately stepping between her legs.

This kitchen has seen so many moments, it's only appropriate. So she allows him to get her out of her pantsuit. It’s wrinkled beyond recognition and the only thing that can save it now is a trip to the dry-cleaners. But when his fingers slip underneath the cotton t-shirt that he lent her, Erin forgets all about the pantsuit and the dry cleaners.

She welcomes his touch, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his shampoo and momentarily forgetting about everything.

***

“I still can’t believe you let me drive,” he comments when they’re on their way back to his place.

“Tired,” she murmurs, leaning on the window trying to take a short nap. “You wore me out.”

“We both have a day off, I can’t see why we can’t take a nap after we eat.”

It momentarily throws her off, because she hadn’t really thought past the sex part. She drove to his place, knowing what she was going there for. And after, they sort of just passed out. But here he is, talking about a nap and ordering food and she’s done those things with him before—both, the nap and the food—but never as lovers. And the more she thinks about it, the more appealing cuddling with Jay sounds.

“A nap sounds great,” she murmurs. “Besides, we’ll need our energy.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m not done yet.”

* * *

When Erin wakes, it’s well into Saturday. They didn’t waste much time after getting to his apartment. They basically inhaled the take out and crashed in his bed. Actually, this is the first minute she has to herself to really think about the consequences of what happened between them.

Glancing at the sleeping body next to her, she smiles. What happened was a long time coming, and the only thing that kept her from showing up before was the unspoken (or not that unspoken if you read between the lines) rule that Voight had about in-house romance. Even though he pardoned Burgess and Ruzek, she always had an insane need to prove herself to him, and she had an inkling that sleeping with her work partner wasn’t going to do it.

So she bantered with Jay and kept her feelings to herself. Until now. Because as Jay so nicely pointed out the day before while eye-fucking her in the bullpen—she smiles fondly at the memory—_they no longer work together. _And despite the fact that she had in fact left a string of broken hearts behind her since high school, she didn’t want to break Jay’s. She knew this one was different. She knew it from the start.

“You know it’s impolite to stare at people who are sleeping,” he interrupts her thoughts and chuckles at her startled expression.

“I was admiring your freckles from close up,” she admits. Jay frowns at the mention and she knows it’s because he’s self-conscious about them. “I like them,” she reassures. It earns her a boyish smile that’s so rare she wants to lock the memory in her treasure box.

There is a brief pause as Erin props herself up on her elbow and stares some more. “I’m not sorry. Whatever happens, I’m not sorry I came over.”

“I’m not sorry either.”

Their eyes lock for another minute and they don’t speak. They don’t say the words—the words that might have been spoken by other people in these circumstances, but would very much scare both of them right now. They just look at each other, letting the fact that neither of them are sorry be enough.

For now.

* * *

Eventually Erin has to go back to get some more clothes, because the new week is approaching quickly. She doesn’t want to leave the little bubble they created for themselves in Jay’s apartment, but she needs fresh underwear and clothes to put on for work. So they settle on a compromise and he drives her to her apartment again. The feeling of him driving is almost too domestic—she really must regain her driving privileges at some point—but for once it feels nice to have someone else at the wheel.

How they end up fucking on the sofa, she can’t really pinpoint. But they do.

It must’ve been the still-lingering memory of them doing it on the kitchen counter, or all the other memories of when they wanted to, but couldn’t. Or even the fact that they really shouldn’t.

“We shouldn’t. Nadia could come.”

“Just be quieter this time,” he teases, and chuckles when she pouts at him.

“Fuck you.”

“You know I love it when you’re loud.”

And once his lips claim hers it’s too late for any sort of rational thought. It’s just hunger.

They collapse on the sofa after, both spent, still panting. They never see the girl standing at the door, backing out softly, grinning from ear to ear. They don’t know she takes one glance at the jacket lying on the floor and doesn’t need to guess who Erin’s partner in crime is, or the _finally _that she whispers to herself as she heads back to the library so the newfound lovers can have a few more hours together.

* * *

Eventually they both must return to the real world and Erin reluctantly drops the news about her possibly going away. She doesn’t miss the disappointment he tries to hide, but enjoys the sincere congratulations from his part. If it was anyone else, she might have doubted it, but she knows he means it. Which was why she had no doubts about falling into bed with him.

What she hadn’t expected was that after a few days with him, she’s on the verge of falling in love.

So when her flight gets pushed, she heads over to the precinct, joking with the team before joining Jay in the break room. They joke for a minute too, while he pours his coffee, before his face gets more serious.

“How long are you gonna be down there?”

“Six months, give or take. We could roll out any time.” It almost hurts to see the expression on his face. He tried to mask it, but she sees right through it. She smiles wistfully, because there’s nothing she can think to say that would make it better.

“Take care of yourself down there, alright?”

“Jay, I don’t have a crystal ball, do you? Can we just agree we don’t know what happens down the road? Maybe we keep an open mind?” She tries not to hold her breath, but it catches somewhere in her throat when he leans in closer and smiles back. She tries not to think about how this is as vulnerable as she can be, and how even though she didn’t exactly say the words _wait for me_, that’s exactly what her words imply.

“Deal.”

He leaves without a hug or without a kiss, and she watches him walk away, wishing they could have had more than those couple of stolen days.

* * *

They lie in bed, limbs entangled, just like days ago.

“So, welcome back,” he murmurs softly. He doesn’t exactly want to ask what that means for them. Is he getting back a partner and losing a lover? Is he keeping both? He’ll wait for her to straighten that out for him, but in the meantime, her soft body is pressing against his and he’ll just take anything he can get. “Oh, by the way, Nadia knows. She’s been giving me the strangest comments and looks.”

“Yeah, she walked in on us at my place. I told you we shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, please, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself for a second, and now it’s my fault?”

The conversation goes from soft to heavy in a matter of seconds, and she grins widely as she straddles him.

“So, are you done for today?”

“Me? Nah, just in between rounds,” he gives her the same line from the other day. They don’t do much talking after that, because they find their mouths can be put to better use. And though Jay’s concerns aren’t completely gone, he has a good feeling about it. He has a feeling they’re far from being done with each other.


End file.
